


Omnic Holiday Cheer

by CookiesAreSoHot



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Cliche, Established Relationship, Fluff, Gender-neutral Reader, Holidays, Implied Sexual Content, Minor Original Character(s), Other, Québec, Reader's Family - Freeform, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-09-03 03:23:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8694475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CookiesAreSoHot/pseuds/CookiesAreSoHot
Summary: Your mum talks you into bringing Zenyatta home for the holidays.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Goddamnit_Kiwi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goddamnit_Kiwi/gifts).



It should be a simple question.

_Will you join me and my family for the holidays?_

It started with a video call over Skype from your mother, who was whining that your work kept you away from home too much. You winced at that, it’s not like you could tell her you were working for a technically illegal organisation devoted and dedicated to helping keep world peace and order. You had a feeling she just wouldn’t approve.

So, you _bended_ the truth and said your work involved humanitarian aid.

It wasn’t entirely wrong.

It just wasn’t the whole story.

You avoided her questions with work, asked how your relatives were doing, and the family dog, and then she asked.

_“You’re coming home for the holidays, right?”_

You froze. Shit.

You’d completely forgotten.

Every year, a few days before the 24th, your whole extended family would all get together at the family patriarchs home, you grandfather, and celebrate together. Which generally meant brown nosing into each other’s business, board games, card games, and loads of food.

You swallowed hard and hoped it didn’t show over the video call. “M-Mom, I’m super busy with work, I don’t think – “

And then the yelling started. _“You’re too busy to come see us!? Your own family!?”_ Your mother was threatening to cry, her eyes already watery. _“What about grandpapa? He’s getting old, dear! This might be his last Christmas with us!”_

She said that every year of course, and every year, it worked. You loved your grandpa after all, he’d been a huge inspiration to you growing up, and a major factor in how and why you eventually ended up at Overwatch.

You winced. “I… Mum, that’s not fair, grandpa isn’t that old, and he’s still in good health.”

_“I know dear, but you never know, remember our neighbours, the gay couple, Fred and Samuel? Fred just collapsed last week! Out of nowhere! He’s only in his 30’s. He lived, but only because your father was there when it happened. The doctors said it was just low pressure, but you NEVER know!”_

“Mum, I still think – “

_“So, please dear? You never know, especially with all this tension building up in Russia and London about the omnics and that.”_

You winced and hoped she didn’t notice in the middle of her ranting. Omnic and human relations growing strained was a sore subject for you after all, not just because you expected to be involved in it, but also because of your boyfriend, Zenyatta.

You had met years ago, when your work made you cross paths in Nepal. The omnic monk had made an impression on you, and you on him, and you kept in contact, and eventually, when his now student, Genji, responded to Overwatch’s recall and Zenyatta followed him, he had invited you to join him. An offer you had happily taken (and not just because you had a crush on him damnit).

That seemed so long ago though, with you now having been dating for just over 6 months after a hushed confession from the omnic monk and overjoyed kisses from you.

_“Oh, and don’t forget to bring your new boyfriend!”_

Wait, what?

You scrambled to respond, hoping she didn’t notice the flush on your cheeks. “I never sai – “

_“Oh please, I’m your mother, dear.” _She responded, giving you a deadpan stare over the video feed. “ _besides, you’re too obvious when you’ve got someone new. What’s it been, six months now?”_

Damn her and her psychic powers.

You briefly considered trying to lie, but your mother, in a way only mothers seem to be able to do, beat you to the punch.

_“Or do they have their own family gathering to be at?”_

You hadn’t considered that. Did monks even celebrate the holidays? “I don’t think so.”

She gave you a hundred-watt smile. _“Great, so you two have no excuses not to come.”_

Shit.

_“So, what’s she like?”_

“Mum!”

_“Sorry, he? They? It doesn’t matter to me either way after all, just that you have someone.”_

You groaned into your hands. “Mum, please – “

_“You’re right, better to keep it a surprise for the get together.”_

“Mum, I haven’t – “

_“Oh, do me a favour, you’re in Greece right now, yes? Can you grab something nice from there to share with the family?”_

“MUM!”

_“I’m sure grandpapa will be happy to meet whoever is making you so happy too!”_ She continued, as if you hadn’t just yelled at her before giving a wave over the video feed _. “See you next then, honey! We love you!”_

And then she hung up the Skype call, leaving you staring at the screen of your laptop like your she hadn’t just dragged you into not only coming to your family get together, but somehow roped your poor omnic boyfriend into it as well.

So, that left you, internally panicking over how to ask Zenyatta if he would join you and your family with celebrating the holidays.

It SHOULD have been such an easy question.

_Come join us for the holidays?_

But you panicked about it, none the less.

And of course, Zenyatta being Zenyatta, the kind, sweet and considerate omnic that he was, picked up on it almost immediately.

“There’s disquiet in your soul, my love.” He remarked when you retired to your now shared quarters for the evening, sitting on your bed and watching you as you changed.

You flinched as he said that, still pulling your pyjama shirt on. You had learned early on that lying to Zenyatta wasn’t worth it. “That obvious, huh?” You tried with a tired smile.

He hummed and his fingers roped around your waist, pulling you close as you squeaked in shy delight, your back now snug against the omnic’s chest.

Zenyatta’s head leaned against your shoulder, giving you his version of a kiss, the cool metal of his mouth piece pressing against the exposed skin of your neck caused you to shudder in delight. You could feel the hum of his processor this close, and it rumbled against you, almost like he was purring. “Talk to me.”

You bite your lip. “Do you… know about Christmas?”

He tilted his head, there’s a pause in the purr of his processors. “That’s a religious holiday, yes? The birth of a prophet or something? Or something about a large man in a red suit?” His head shifts, nuzzling your cheek now, his hands tracing invisible circles against your stomach in soothing patterns.

“Um, I guess it depends on why you celebrate it,” You quickly remark, unsure of how religious you wanted to get with your omnic monk boyfriend, “our family does the Santa thing, I guess, is the best way to put it.” You give a shy smile you know he can’t even see. “We get together, and we have a huge meal, we exchange gifts and play games and drink and well, it’s just…”

_A mess._

“Sounds wonderful.” Zenyatta remarked, the delight evident in his tone. He tilts his head. “Tracer mentioned that we were doing something similar, no?”

You feel your stomach drop at the sudden anxiety that he thinks you will not be joining the Overwatch Christmas celebrations in favour of your biological family. “Ye-Yeah, we are. But my family does ours a few days before actual Christmas, because, you know, it can be overwhelming and we’ve all got our own plans.”

The omnic monk hums in recognition, one of his hands sliding down your stomach, feather light touches that made you stiffen even through the fabric of your shirt, his fingers stopping at the waistband of your pants, almost dancing against them and you swallow hard, you half wonder if he was _teasing_ you, knowing you were tense and trying to give you something else to focus on. “Zen? What are yo – “

“Are you worried?” He interjects, “About going to see them?”

You inhaled sharply. “Yes but…” You close your eyes. Now or never. “Not for the reason you might be thinking of.”

“Oh?” Zenyatta almost sounds amused, if he had lips he would be smiling, “Tell me then, my love.” His hand crosses the threshold of your waistband and you gasp.

“My mum!” You blurt out, face flushed and eyes screwed shut. “She… She wants me to bring you. To the family get together.”

He pauses, the cool metal of his hand dancing just so against your bare skin before he pulls his hand away and you want to whimper at the loss of contact. You wait for his response. Nothing.

A beat. Then two.

Still nothing.

You turn your head back to look at him. “Zen?”

The problem with having an omnic boyfriend included the unreadable facial expression, usually you could read his body language well enough, or Zenyatta would at least talk to you.

But right now, Zenyatta was just sitting there on the bed, staring at you, the only sign of any sort of reaction from him was his fans kicking on. That confused you even more, he usually only did that when the two of you were intimate. If he were human, you would’ve guessed the reaction could be likened to feeling overwhelmed or exasperated as well.

Was he angry at you?

Or confused?

You shifted your position to turn to him. “Zenyatta?”

“Are you alright with it?” He finally asked, his hands lacing with yours, voice as calm and steady as ever, even as his fans continued to whirr quietly. “Introducing me to your family?”

An implication hits you suddenly like a ton of bricks.

Maybe he was worried that you were ashamed of him?

“I’m not ashamed of you, or us.” You say quickly, squeezing his hands gently when you notice his optics flicker gently. “it’s just… a huge thing. To humans. Introducing your significant other to your family for the first time. Especially on such a big holiday, and we’re not just talking my parents, I’m talking about my WHOLE family, like all my aunts and uncle, and we’ve only been dating for six months, and I don’t want you to feel pressured or anything.” When he gives a gentle chuckle, it occurs to you you’ve been rambling, your voice higher in pitch and faster in speed, your cheeks flush in embarrassment.

“I … _want_ you to come.” You quietly admit, starting again. “I love you, Zen, and I’m not ashamed of being with an omnic, and I’m sure my family won’t care either, but it’s still a big thing in general, you know? And I don’t know how much you know about it all, or if you want to even come and I – “

His forehead suddenly and softly boops against yours, silencing you mid-sentence. “I would be _honoured_ to come.”

It takes you a moment to process what he said before the waves of relief and joy overwhelm you and you’re giggling like a school girl, throwing your arms around Zenyatta’s neck, squealing out a thank you.

Zenyatta just gives his own hearty chortle as he returns your enthusiastic hug, “You’re always so cute, my dear, but you needn’t need to fear about asking me such things.” He nuzzles your neck. “Now, we should celebrate, yes? This was a big step for you, for us, after all.”

You grin enthusiastically, pushing him onto his back against the soft sheets. “For a monk, you can be kind of a pervert, you know that?” You tease, even as you pull off your shirt, throwing it off into some forgotten corner.

He gives a gentle hum as he watches you straddle him, hands reaching up to snake up your body, taking his time to appreciate the way you shudder at his touch. “Transcendence can be reached in _more than one way_ , my darling.” If he had human features, you would be positive he’d be smirking as he cups at your bare chest. “And the Shambali have no rules about _physical_ desires.”

You chortled. “Pretty sure physical desires are part of worldly desires.”

Zenyatta gives an easy shrug, his optics fluttering gently. “Then it’s a good thing I am no longer Shambali.” He answers simply before nuzzling against you.

* * *

 

As the date of the get together gets closer and closer, you find yourself growing more and more anxious, despite Zenyatta’s best attempts to reassure you. You briefly considered telling your mum to tell everyone ahead of time, but that only made the pit in your stomach grow larger.

No, better to just have it surprised on them, you reasoned with yourself.

Like a band aid, just rip it off.

Even so, you’re still shaking, even by the time you say goodbye to those at Watchpoint Gibraltor, reassuring you’d be back in time to spend the 25th with them (your second family, as it was). Winston and Athena were kind enough to let you take a ship for a Quebec to avoid any holiday traffic (you didn’t dare ask about the legality of the whole situation, you already knew the answer, and to be honest, if you were caught by a police officer, you figured it would be the least of your problems).

So, with an offering of a few bottles of red wine from a local Gibralatar vineyard and a few larger Tupperware containers of _loukoumades_ (and a bottle of luxury oil for Zenyatta so he wouldn’t feel potentially even more left out, despite his insistence), you made the almost suffocating drive in a rental car supplied by an old friend to your grandfather’s lodge, appropriately a good distance from the main city itself.

Zenyatta seemed surprised and delighted by the prospect. “It’s different and encouraging to see humans break away from modern society.”

You gave a dry smile at that. “Well, not all people like the hustle and bustle of the big cities. Besides, we still need farms and that for – ” Your heart skipped a beat as you recognised the road that would pull up to your grandfather’s home, and you licked your lips as you turned into it.

“Your family has a farm?”

If Zenyatta noticed your discomfort, he did nothing to quell it, which was unusual of him, but to be fair to him, he may have been potentially overloaded and pleased with the new stimuli of a new country and customs, including the knitted yellow cardigan you had gifted him when you got off the ship, which he had been overjoyed with (you knew he didn’t need it, given he could regulate his temperature with ease, but it made him look more in place with the snow and chill).

“No, but you wouldn’t know it if you saw the size of the place.” You responded, your voice easy and measured, “Grandpapa does have a few animals though, most of the meat we eat at the party will be raised by him, and a vegetable garden. And the trees closeby are tapped for their maple.”

“We should see if we can bring back some maple syrup then if possible.” Zenyatta remarked, reaching across from the passenger’s side to place a comforting hand on your knee.

You glanced at him quickly, giving a smile, more genuine and earnest. Guess you were wrong about him not noticing.

But it did little to quell your growing anxiety as you drove up the road, more of an extended driveway. The lodge itself was quite sizable, one story with another underground, and tucked nicely in a parcel of land adjacent to the forest (that, as you understood it, your grandfather partially owned as well). Even tucked away against a snow and trees, the bright hues of various other vehicles the dotted the empty areas of the snow-covered grassland, made it already seem alive and homey.

“You have quite a large family then?”

“30 or so, on my mother’s side.” You answered as you parked the car, “I don’t know if they’ll all be here, but they usually are.”

Zenyatta gave a delighted hum. “It will be like being back at the monastery then.”

“Except a lot noisier.” You winced. “The house is big, yeah, but it’s only got 5 or 6 bedrooms. When I was little, we would stay the night, and I’d have to bunk with a bunch of my cousins…”

“… Are we staying the night?”

You choked out a laugh as you turned off the ignition. “Sorry, Zeny. It will be late by the time anyone lets us leave, yeah, but I left my toothbrush on the ship.”

“We could go back and get it.” Zenyatta helpfully offered, your attempt of humour going completely over his head.

You leaned over and pressed a kiss to your omnic boyfriend’s non-existent lips. “Small steps, Zenyatta.” You whispered before you exited the car, already noticing the door to the lodge being opened and your mother rushing out.

She beamed happily as she rushed up to you, throwing her arms around your neck. “Sweetie! It’s so good to see you! I’m so glad you could make it! Oh, you’ve barely changed at all!”

You gave her an affectionate squeeze back. “Hi, mum.”

Zenyatta gave an appreciative hum behind you, you hadn’t even heard him get out of the car. “My my, I didn’t realise humans could be so affectionate.”

You gave a nervous glance back at Zenyatta, who was floating absently behind you, before looking back at your mother, whose expression you couldn’t place. Was she angry? Disappointed? Your family never expressed any anti-omnic sentiments, but that was completely different from bringing one home. “Um, mum, this is – “

“Tekhartha Zenyatta.” Zenyatta interrupted you, kindly offering his hand to your mother. “I am your child’s ‘boyfriend’.”

There wasn’t a beat missed as your mother smile grew even more and she took Zenyatta’s hand, eagerly shaking it. “Welcome! Welcome! Oh, I’ve been dying to meet you, they’re my kid, but they hardly tell me anything anymore, you know? What do you prefer we call you?”

Zenyatta gave a warm chuckle, “Zenyatta is fine. Though your child seems to enjoy calling me ‘Zeny’ as well.”

You felt your face flush at that, but said nothing, deciding to use the opportunity to tip toe to the trunk of the car as your mum and Zenyatta expressed pleasantries. “Mum, we brought – “ You gave a delighted gasp as you saw someone already busying themselves in the trunk of your car.

“What, no overnight bags?” Your grandpapa, a man who could probably go up against Reinhardt in sheer size, grumbled out as he scooped up the Tupperware. “Getting too old to spend time at your old Grandpapa’s place now, huh?”

“Grandpapa!” You squealed in delight, reaching up for a hug from the lumbering giant that was your grandfather.

“Dad!” Your mum huffed. “What are you doing outside!?”

“Needed some fresh firewood.” He groused as he squeezed you into a tight hug, the hair of his beard tickling your cheek. “Besides, my favourite grandkid is here.”

“Then get one of the boys to do it!” Your mother protested, “And don’t let one of the others hear you say that!”

 “There’s a reason they’re _boys_ , Anne.” Grandpapa grumbled, calling your mother by name, “Need a _man_ to get good wood.” He finally released you, looking at you with such affection. “How’s my little pancake doing, huh? Heard you were bringing someone special today.”

You gave Zenyatta a glance. “Um, yeah, Grandpapa, this is – “

“This is Zenyatta, dad.” Your mother chirped in, keeping a hand on Zenyatta’s shoulders and a bright smile on her face.

Your Grandpapa gave Zenyatta a long hard stare. “Shambali, huh?”

Zenyatta gave a nod, offering his hand. “Yes,”

“You knew Mondatta?”

That made your omnic boyfriend pause, and you bite your lip, but you kept quiet.

“Yes. Mondatta was like a brother to me.” Zenyatta’s voice was hard to place, and for a brief second, panic overwhelmed you.

“My condolences. He was only trying to spread a message that lots’ve people still have a hard time swallowing it seems.” He took Zenyatta’s hand and gave it a firm shake. “You’re more than welcome in my home though. Hope none of the boys give you trouble.”

You felt yourself relax, tension leaving your body in waves and you could’ve cried. Everyone else’s reactions you could’ve tolerated, but your grandpapa’s felt almost like it was a _test_.

Your grandpapa turned back to you, giving you a firm pat on the shoulder. “Go inside and introduce Zenyatta to the rest of the horde, alright, pancake? Your mum and I will bring your things in.”

You gave a quick nod, making a grab for Zenyatta’s hand and dragging him over to the house, the sound of your mother trying to scold your grandpapa still fading into the distance, replaced instead with the crunch of snow beneath your feet. “Zen, are you – “

“He seems like a very nice man,” Zenyatta interrupted. “Your grandpapa.”

“Yeah… He is.”

“I am eager to meet the rest of the ‘horde’ then.”

There was already a small horde of children crowding by the open door, who stared at awe at the both of you as you walked up to the door.

“ _Cool,_ ” One of your cousins, Alphonse, who was only a child of 8 years old, whistled out. “how come _they_ get to bring a robot home for the holidays?”

“ _Alphonse.”_ His mother, your Aunt Lucie, who was standing behind him, scolded him. “Don’t be rude!”

“He’s not,” Zenyatta offered. “but we do prefer the term omnic. Hello, little ones.” He happily sung out with a wave, causing the kids to give out a delighted coo.

* * *

 

As it turned out, you had really worried for nothing.

You were both herded around from relative to relative to be introduced, but your family accepted Zenyatta with open arms easily, even with the teasing about you ‘stealing’ Zenyatta as it were from the life of the Shambali monks, or of Zenyatta potentially joining the family.

There were a few moments of visible awkwardness, mostly from your older family members (your Uncle Émile was very reluctant to shake Zenyatta’s hand until he got a glare from your grandpapa), but Zenyatta took everything in stride, and fit in quicker than you expected. Ronron, your grandpop’s treasured cat, adored Zenyatta the most, happily curling up in Zenyatta’s lap for most of the day (your father joked that it was because Zenyatta was self-heating), something that your omnic boyfriend was particularly overjoyed about.

Still, you found yourself staying by his side most of the day, your hand in his, almost following him around like a little duckling. If anything, you seemed more nervous about everything than he was, but the tension faded as the day went on, watching your boyfriend laugh and talk with your relatives.

You found yourself watching Zenyatta as he laughed about something with your father and your Uncle Steeve as they shared hot cider (well, warmed oil in Zenyatta’s case), smiling absently, not even noticing when your grandpapa came up behind you until he slapped a hand on your back (for such a large man, he could be terrifyingly quiet when he walked up behind people).

 “Nice seeing you with someone that makes you so happy, pancake.”

You rose an eyebrow. “Oh yeah, how can you tell?”

Grandpapa gave a warm smile. “The way you look at each other, it’s the same way your dad looked at your mum the first time she brought him home.”

You chuckled. “Wow, cliché much?”

“It’s Christmas, let an old man be cliché.”

You gave a tired chuckle. “Yeah, ok, Grandpapa.”

Then, without missing a beat:

“So, he’s coming back next year, right?” Grandpapa grinned. “Hopefully as a proper member of the family?"


End file.
